


Likeness

by Serpentine



Category: Loveless (manga)
Genre: Angry Sex, Beloved, Hatesex, Kink Meme, Loveless manga-verse, M/M, Soubi/Nisei
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-05
Updated: 2009-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-06 10:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serpentine/pseuds/Serpentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Loveless Anonymous Kink Meme in 2009.  The prompt was: "Soubi/Nisei having a recurring affair behind the backs of both their Sacrifices. I'd like to see someone to try to write some smut with these two... I don't really care who tops.  Nisei having hidden feelings for Soubi is a plus".</p><p>Pretty much exactly what it says on the tin.  Seimei tries to get a read on what makes Soubi tick, and gets a lot closer than he bargained for.  Soubi seems to have plenty of weak spots, some less likely than others... but it's hard to accurately calculate somebody else's motives when you aren't willing to examine your own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Likeness

He wasn't sure why he was doing this, really.

It was just... His Sacrifice, his _own Sacrifice_, seemed to have, in the tangle of (probably denied) his feelings, more-than-half admiration for this man. Nisei couldn't figure it out. Agatsuma was a Blank, and therefore obviously inferior to Nisei himself. Even Beloved acknowledged this, sort of; at any rate, he'd discarded Soubi like a used tissue and found Nisei, his _true_ Fighter, a year later.

Sure, Agatsuma was a very _good_ Fighter -- just look at how he'd managed to win several battles while solo or with that completely useless "Sacrifice" who obviously didn't know the first thing about doing his job -- but that was just compensation. Agatsuma knew himself to be inferior, and had driven himself to peak performance as a (useless!) bid to keep from being discarded. He'd even let Seimei carve up his neck, and that was more wacked-out than Nisei was really comfortable with, especially since it meant that Seimei had... No, not going there.

So he'd started stalking Agatsuma, trying to figure out why Seimei had thrown him away but kept using him as a sort of Holy Grail to wave in front of Nisei whenever he felt Nisei wasn't meeting his excessive and arbitrary standards. Why the words -- which normally Nisei would have appreciated as a superb example of the way words could cut down others, and otherwise not have paid the least attention to -- did hurt, because he could hear the approval and genuine admiration lurking beneath the icy disdain Seimei covered everything with.

He'd followed the man everywhere, carefully suppressing his Fighter "feel" so he wouldn't be caught. He'd loitered outside Agatsuma's apartment building and that of his friend with the piercings; he'd followed him across the grounds of the campus, casually passing his classroom doors or windows to catch glimpses of him at work. He'd even once trailed him around the city when he took a day to do errands; that had been the most boring day of Nisei's _life_, learning that Agatsuma Soubi bought groceries and shampoo and browsed videogames like any other idiot in the world.

And he visited that useless kid who -- supposed Name or not -- was as much of a Sacrifice as Nisei's pillow.

Only it seemed he hadn't cloaked himself as well as he'd thought, because without warning Agatsuma had been behind him, twisting his arm behind his back and slamming him into a wall to snarl into his ear. He'd fought and yelled and come up with some truly cutting things to say which he was quite proud of, on the twin premises that he'd managed to think of them with the blood in his head pumping so loudly, and managed to say them despite Soubi's noisy threats and attempt to strangle him.

Only after he'd said them did what _Soubi_ was saying sink in: Stay away from Ritsuka, I don't ever want to catch you following me when I'm near him ever again.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not interested in your precious little brat, all right? He's way too easy. I'd rather see if I can make _you_ cry."

He'd expected the renewed snarl and the being shoved back into the wall, really he had. Soubi was just too predictable.

"Should I call Seimei again, and have him tell you he doesn't want you anymore? Unless you're dense as a rock, you know that already, though; he threw you away, and now he has me." Nisei brandished the hand that bore his name in front of Soubi's eyes. "His _real_ Fighter. The other half of Beloved."

Soubi didn't make any physical reaction, but Nisei had been here before, and now he knew how to interpret Soubi's slight stiffness and unseeing eyes. He pushed away from the wall, breaking Soubi's suddenly awkward hold, and sauntered away.

After that, he confined his stalking to everywhere except within five blocks of the little Aoyagi. Sometimes he saw Soubi look around, or even stare directly at his concealed location (how _did_ the man do it? Nisei would have sworn he had himself so tightly locked down even Seimei, who was bonded to him, would have trouble finding him!).

He got a little bolder, began following Soubi more closely. Pushing, because that was what he did, and he still couldn't figure out what Seimei saw in Soubi that made him genuinely mean it when he compared him to his current Fighter.

Four months after that encounter in the Aoyagi neighbourhood, Soubi caught him again. At first Nisei figured he'd done something, again, gotten too close or something; but as Soubi screamed at him he began to conclude that this time it was something in Soubi that was driving this.

He reached down and grabbed Soubi's balls, meaning to squeeze, and instead got a handful of tented fabric. The world realigned in Nisei's head, things sliding into a different arrangement where they suddenly made a lot more sense.

Soubi's Sacrifice was thirteen years old and a virgin.

Seimei had sent Soubi to Ritsuka, and presumably had instructed him to be loyal and attached to the kid.  
Soubi was (according to Seimei) perfectly obedient.Soubi was not a virgin.He had seen Soubi kiss the kid; Soubi was clearly messed-up enough that he didn't separate protective and sexual love.He had seen Ritsuka push Soubi away; clearly the kid did distinguish them.

Soubi, in short, had to be dying of frustration because the person he "loved" was having none of him and -- since his entire life revolved around that person -- he didn't have any other options.

Nisei almost laughed at the mental image of Soubi jerking off while moaning his Sacrifice's name in a piteous whine; he opened his mouth to say something about it, until he realised that it would probably just get him slammed into the wall again, a lot harder, and not much else to show for his insight. Really, Soubi just wasn't any _fun_ when you cut at him. Maybe he should try fun of another sort.

After all, it wasn't like ... Well. While there could, _obviously_, be absolutely no kind of comparison between the Aoyagis -- Seimei was too clearly superior in every way -- it could be said that both Nisei and Soubi were bonded to virginal Sacrifices who couldn't recognise and wouldn't meet the needs of someone earless.

He gave the cock he held a much gentler squeeze than he had originally intended, and met Soubi's eyes fearlessly. "Try to tell me you want me to stop," he said, smirking. "Tell me you'd rather go home to that _little child_ with a raging hard-on and beg for relief you know he'll deny you."

"You're suggesting -- _you?_"

"Yeah, well. I'm not a virgin. He'd never know." He thought it was kind of... well, it was something, to have someone who didn't need to ask who "he" was.

Soubi's eyes widened fractionally. "You'd do that behind your Sacrifice's back?" He sounded like a teacher, stuffily disapproving and a bit gleeful, as though he'd finally caught a troublemaker who'd always got away with mischief before. "Without his permission?"

"Yeah; why not? If he won't take me, he doesn't get to choose who does. Besides," Nisei jerked the handful of Soubi he was still holding, "you're not any better."

Soubi pushed him -- _yes, finally_ \-- hard up against the wall by his shoulders (completely disregarding Nisei's grip on him, the freaky masochist; that yank had to have hurt) and tore his shirt away with one gesture.

"Yeah," Nisei breathed, as Soubi's teeth closed on his nipple, "Oh, yeah, f--" but the fingers in his mouth cut him off. His tongue danced around them instead, making a competition of it: fingers as gag versus tongue as stimulator. He assigned himself ten points when Soubi made a harsh gasp and thrust into his hand.

Soubi's other hand occupied itself with getting Nisei's trousers off; Nisei 'helped' by shifting his hips away from the wall just enough to let them slide down. Soubi pulled the fingers from his mouth; Nisei figured he knew where they were going next, and hitched one knee up to rest on Soubi's hip. Might as well; his other option was probably the ground, and while he didn't share Seimei's distaste for anything that might possibly contain germs, the floor of this alley was definitely not something he wanted to touch.

The same didn't go for Soubi, whose fingers were slick and knowing and none too gently jabbing _exactly_ where they could do the most good. If by 'good' one meant 'make Nisei's eyes roll up and his weight-bearing leg buckle at the knee.' None of which kept him from lifting his teeth off Soubi's neck and muttering, "Can't believe you aren't saving yourself for your Sacrifice."

"It's too late for that," Soubi said, running his spare hand through his pale hair, catching the strands that sweat had stuck to his face. There might have been a catch in his voice, but Nisei decided he hadn't heard it.

"Damn right; you're not walking out of here now."

Soubi shifted and pushed into him while he stifled a shout and left bloody nailmarks on the man's shoulders, and started moving, sharp and fast and Nisei echoed it with his own hips, leaving dots of precome on Soubi's pale stomach with each collision. He pried one hand off of Soubi and wrapped it around his own aching flesh, pumping hard in time to their movements. He felt his shoulders hit the wall and scrape each time his fingers squeezed the base; felt the breeze brush across them each time his fingers swept over the tip.

Orgasm hit him like an unexpected spell attack; if he hadn't had a wall at his back, he'd have fallen over. He did sag back against it, dragging Soubi off-balance with the sudden shift and making him lose his rhythm for a minute. Oversensitive and exhausted, his head feeling like a fireworks finale, Nisei didn't even notice.

When he recovered a little, he realised that the feel of Soubi's increasingly frantic motion felt... good, even without his own arousal complementing it; he slid his hands around to hold Soubi's buttocks, and occasionally sunk his nails in to encourage him. Aside from that, he let the man finish without interfering; it only took a few minutes before he felt Soubi's hands close bruising-tight on his hip and hair, and felt a sudden heat within.

Soubi clearly didn't believe in afterglow, Nisei groused to himself seconds later while watching him clean up and dress. It occurred to him that his own shirt had been torn to bits, and he glared.

"Give me that." He snatched the travel-pack of tissues from Soubi's hand and began wiping at the worst of the messes. Sticky wetness down the backs of his thighs, saliva on his neck and chest, sweat all over making his hair and the tissue stick to him... He glared at Soubi.

"Going to ask your Sacrifice to patch up your scrapes?" Nisei grinned. "Maybe if you explain to him where you got them, next time he can give you some?"

"I can take care of these," Soubi said, looking at his shoulders with a vague, dismissive glance. "These are hardly something to bother Ritsuka with."

Nisei wanted to say something to deepen that embarrassment, except he can tell Soubi doesn't feel any: he'd meant what he said. Anyone else would be squirming at the idea of their partner knowing about a sordid back-alley hookup (or at trying to hide a sordid back-alley hookup). It's one of the things Sacrifices and Fighters both have drilled into them at an early age: you always tell your partner anything that could affect your performance or your bond. But ten bleeding crescents and a lot of teethmarks are Soubi's idea of minor wounds, and his Sacrifice is just too important to be bothered with such trivial things. Nisei sighed.

"Too bad," he offered mock-sympathetically, "I wanted to see his reaction when he learns you gave me your cock before he could get up the nerve to use it."

"All of me belongs to Ritsuka," Soubi -- the creepy idiot stalker -- said, not at all goaded. "He has no use for that part of me, so it doesn't matter who I use it on. My body, however," he stopped for a bit, and regarded Nisei through veiled eyes, before continuing, even more calmly, "only Ritsuka is entitled to all of me."

He began walking away then, but Nisei raised his voice enough to reach him at the mouth of the alley.

"So. Same time next week?"

Silence answered him; Nisei took that for assent.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This is very rough; I haven't touched it since banging it out at the Kinkmeme, so it's in desperate need of polishing.
> 
> I do intend to get around to that sometime; meanwhile, suggestions and corrections are extremely welcome! (Offers to beta will be met with fervent gratitude!)


End file.
